Page 73 of Three Rules to Wed a Duke

“Upstairs? In another of your private sanctuaries? Are you certain the house won’t crumble in on itself if I venture across the threshold?” Frances asked darkly.

“I see you are displeased about so many rules. I assure you that I understand, but once I’ve explained, you will as well.”

Frances nodded curtly then took to the stairs without waiting to see if he followed. Anthony did trail behind her, but she was not interested in waiting for him to escort her. She reached his study then stopped, letting him choose to open the door.

“Go on. You may open it if it matters to you,” he suggested, but Frances only remained proudly silent. Anthony sighed in frustration and opened the door, then gestured for her to go ahead of him.

Frances was immediately struck by the austere plainness to the room. A simple wooden table and straight-backed chair served as the desk, and a pair of mismatched but well-worn chairs faced it. It had clearly been some time since anyone had had cause to sit down with him, for Anthony had to hurry over and move stacks of books from the seats before piling them on the floor behind the window. She waited until he nodded to a chair before lowering herself to perch on the edge of the seat, indicating that she did not intend to stay very long.

“Frances, I don’t know where to begin or how to even explain myself,” Anthoy began.

“Of course not,” she replied, rolling her eyes.

“It is not only that my emotions are a mystery to me, it’s more that I know what I did was deceitful. I’m very sorry. I never intended for you to discover my motives or ever feel that your marriage was lacking in any way.”

Frances only nodded.

“But now that you’ve met my sister and you know of her circumstances, I hope you will see that what I did was not meant to hurt you. It was only the actions of a desperate man.”

“Do you find that many women are happy to hear this sort of thing? That their husbands didn’t wish to marry them but had to in order to achieve some other end?”

“No, I do not. I have little experience with it, of course, but I can easily understand why you are hurt. You are well within your rights to despise me, and I will take all of the responsibility for that.”

Frances didn’t reply. She had expected stoic silence or stone-faced indifference to her pain, but instead Anthony was already shouldering all of the blame. But for what? And what reason?

“You’ve now met my sister,” he continued, looking down. There was a hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth as he spoke of her. “She is truly delightful, isn’t she?”

“I can agree to that, though I wish I’d gotten the chance to enjoy her company from the moment I arrived.”

Anthony winced, but he nodded. “She has always been such a joyful person, even through all the times when we thought she might leave this world. Her suffering has been great since the moment she first drew breath, and I vowed that I would protect her always. I know that I make grave mistakes, Frances, but I hope you can trust that my intentions were always good.

“Abigail has had to keep to the house in order to avoid anything that can cause her to take ill. You may have seen her attempts at walking, at speaking too long or laughing too loudly… all of those things draw the very strength from her thin body.”

“And you thought that keeping her captive in the attic would prolong her life somehow?” Frances asked, accusing him.

“Captive? On the contrary, I beg her often to come down and live among us!” Anthony argued, his scowl returning. “I would never lock her away as though ashamed of her!”

“I see. My apologies,” Frances admitted quickly.

“This arrangement is Abigail’s wish. She does not enjoy meeting new people, whether out of fear that they will reject her or worry that a mere fluttering of a breeze can make her ill again. Whatever the cause, if my sister wishes it, I will climb over mountaintops to oblige. She matters that much to me.”

“That is quite noble of you. But what has any of this to do with me?”

“Sir Perry insists that he has a contract from my father to marry her,” Anthony said, leveling his gaze at Frances as if studying her response.

Frances felt her mouth fall open in shock, but she did not care for manners at the moment. Abigail? Married to that horrible man? It was unthinkable. It was no wonder Anthony had done his utmost to conceal her.

“How can he possibly expect… she’s a child! And in such poor health! How does he intend to care for her? How would he everthink she was able to—” Frances stopped, her agitation enraging her.

“I know. I’m sure you can see why I’ve been an utter tyrant where she is concerned.”

“I do indeed. I apologize for not trusting you,” she confessed, feeling the sting of shame. “However, I wish you’d thought you could trust me. Since I was only a ruse, I suppose you could not be bothered to get to know me well enough.”

“Frances, I must explain that,” Anthony began, and Frances stared at him in anticipation. It seemed to have unnerved him, for he stopped to flounder for the right words. He finally looked defeated and confessed, “It’s true. I only needed a wife who would marry me at once, someone who would be so grateful to marry well that she would overlook all of these other issues. The fact that you are beautiful and smart and kind was all merely my good fortune.”

“What was so pressing that you had to debase the both of us and marry in such haste?”

Anthony looked down at his folded hands, taking so long that Frances began to fear the worst.

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